


circle the drain, dive to the top

by mido



Series: a primrose bud and a bonsai tree [3]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dancing, M/M, once again same 'verse as primrose/bonsai because i am unoriginal, sorry lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:28:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22581775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mido/pseuds/mido
Summary: Hey, I've been falling apart these daysWatching my heart go around and around, 'round and around
Relationships: Sakaki Yuya/Shiunin Sora
Series: a primrose bud and a bonsai tree [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632043
Kudos: 8





	circle the drain, dive to the top

**Author's Note:**

> second to last req for this batch! this one's for my dear friend birdy who wanted candyshipping, i hope this suffices!!!

It’s mid-afternoon with the sun just barely edging down onto the west side of the sky that finds Yuya poking boredly at his phone, leaning against the brick wall of his college’s student resource center as he waits for the double doors to fly open and for a certain sugar addict to burst out into the world again. The tips of his hair are slightly damp from this morning when he’d showered and decided against blow-drying it, just out of convenience-- he was regretting that very convenience now, with frost already coating the individual strands at the ends. He fiddles with his bangs for a moment before glancing around, as if to catch one of his friends on their way to class despite knowing most of them are clustered in the buildings surrounding the library on the other side of campus. He sighs and continues thumbing through Instagram.

Luckily, he only waits about three more minutes until Sora throws the doors open and flounces outside, inhaling deeply like he hadn’t had fresh air in hours. His gaze lands on Yuya cloaked in a denim jacket and a green hooded sweatshirt beneath that, his characteristic goggles hanging around his neck rather than sitting on top of his head, and smiles widely. “Thanks for waiting!” He exclaims, pulling a lemonhead out of his pocket and holding it out for Yuya to take. Yuya, never one to reject anything free given his status as a college student, tucks it into the front pouch of his hoodie, and thanks the other boy. Sora just grins.

After chatting for a moment, the shorter of the two leads them away from the student resource center and in the direction of the fine arts building, standing catty corner to the humanities building. Yuya looks at Sora questioningly (his major is performing arts so he’s frequented the place before, but both of them are done with classes for the day), but he just smiles through a strawberry laffy taffy in his cheek and winks.  _ Just follow me, _ that look says, so Yuya doesn’t press further and ambles along one step behind.

Sora makes a beeline to the stairs as soon as they enter, but instead of going up to one of the five other floors, he heads to the one below. The basement wasn’t used for much other than whatever music students desired seeing as there were quite a few soundproofed rooms down there, but Sora passes them all by as he walks with a slight skip in his step. Yuya peeks in a couple of the door windows and sees one guy jamming out on a drum set a little more intricate than a run-of-the-mill one, a girl singing into a microphone covered with a pantyhose while her friend plucks at the strings of a ukelele, and a trio of two guitarists and a bassist plucking and strumming at their respective instruments’ strings. He follows Sora all the way down the hallway to the double doors at the end, and the other pushes them open with a flourish.

The vast auditorium that branches off the side of the building is completely uninhabited, a rare occurrence nowadays given the influx of people joining the theatre club lately and the monthly open mics hosted by the poetry club as well as the fact that since it was a new semester, orientations were taking place left and right. Yuya feels a little small in the huge space with no one around but him or Sora, but Sora doesn’t seem bothered as he bounds down one of the walkways and leaps up onto the stage, shouting to Yuya, “Isn’t this rare? We have it to ourselves!” His grin is infectious, and Yuya finds himself sporting a small grin at Sora’s enthusiasm.

Sora pulls something that looks to be a notebook out of nowhere (he had a tendency to keep everything he ever wanted on his person at all times, so Yuya’s just given up on questioning how he’s able to hold all of that anymore) from behind his back, flipping it open to a certain page while Yuya shuffles down the walkway with less excitement and more intrigue for what Sora’s goal is in bringing him to a secluded place with great acoustics. He probably wouldn’t want the acoustics part if he were planning on murdering him. Probably. Sora tended to keep people, including him, on their toes like that.

Yuya takes a seat in the frontmost row, only a couple yards away from the raised stage that he could probably climb up onto if he tried despite the stairs leading up to it on either side. Sora looks at him disappointedly like he’s missed something important then places his notebook on the floor, and just as Yuya’s about to ask what’s even going on he jumps from the stage to the tightly carpeted floor below and strides over to where Yuya’s settled. Yuya looks up at him, confused as to what’s being expected of him, and Sora sighs exaggeratedly, holding out a hand to help him out of his seat. “It’s boring to be the only one on stage unless there’s an audience, don’t you think?” He explains, and Yuya actually does agree-- looking out on a sea of empty chairs with the stage to himself just makes him feel lonely, but he powers through it whenever he’s rehearsing or the like (an empty stage and auditorium both is a luxury not to be taken lightly). They both, rather than taking the stairs like normal people, hoist themselves up onto the stage like teenage boys trying to impress their friends with their athleticism. Sora’s already standing by the time Yuya manages to drag himself onto the lacquered wood and find his balance.

Usually, when Yuya finds himself on the stage in front of a massive crowd of zero, it’s because he’s working on projecting his voice nine times out of ten. Surprisingly to anyone who knew him well, Yuya tended just barely towards the soft spoken side, not necessarily  _ quiet  _ or  _ shy _ but just sort of… not very loud. He wasn’t the one the teachers in high school picked on for not speaking loud enough for them to hear, but he wasn’t the one who they told to kick the volume down a notch on, either. He feels a bit nostalgic with the blinding, burning light fixtures hanging from the ceiling beating down on his head-- it’d been weeks if not months since he’d done anything even  _ in _ the auditorium, much less onstage.

When he looks over at Sora, the other is crouched over and leafing through his notebook again. “What’s that?” Yuya asks, his curiosity piqued. Sora jumps as if he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone, and flips the cover shut quickly. “Nothing too important!” He smiles toothily when he turns around, but Yuya’s known him long enough that he picks up on something underlying in his tone, something like… embarrassment?

No matter, since Sora leaves the notebook lying dejectedly on the floor there and bounces over to where Yuya’s standing at stage center. “You’re probably wondering why we’re here to begin with, so!” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and pulls up YouTube, and soon the tinny speaker is belting out an instrumental orchestra piece. Yuya tilts his head to the side, now left with more questions than before. Sora must see the question mark hovering above his head, because he laughs at his expression and grabs Yuya’s hands in his own. “Teach me to waltz, please?”

Yuya’s questions are still unanswered. “Why do you need to learn to waltz?” He asks, trying to refrain from drowning in memories of dance class from age five to seventeen. He’s probably way out of practice by now at age twenty, but. An idea pops into his head, and his lips stretch into a sly smile. “Trying to impress some mister or missus Right?”

Sora reddens the tiniest bit at that, confirming his suspicions without even uttering a word, but he denies it within a second. “Why would I need to impress anyone other than you, anyway…” He mutters under his breath. Yuya laughs, a bright and clear sound in the deserted auditorium that bounces off the walls and ceiling both and echoes all the way to the seats in the back. Sora clasps his hands around Yuya’s and raises them between them. “C’mon, Yuya, please?” He has stars in his eyes.

The other smiles feebly and sighs even though he isn’t bothered in the least. “I’m going to warn you now that I haven’t waltzed in like, five years, though.” He says sheepishly, and Sora jumps for joy, releasing Yuya’s hands from his clutches. “Okay! Okay.” He composes himself, but before he takes on any stance he seems to think of something else, tapping a finger to his cheek. “Do you want to be the man or the woman?”

Yuya shrugs. “I know both, so I guess the question is which do  _ you  _ want to be?” Sora considers this for a moment and seems to contemplate his options, and comes to a conclusion a moment later. “I guess I’ll be the guy, then?”

He places his right hand on Sora’s shoulder and maneuvers Sora’s left hand so it’s resting a little below his shoulder on his side, then clasps their left and right hands respectively together, fingers intertwined. “We should probably start with a box step, since I don’t remember the one where you move around the room.” Yuya admits, feeling a bit silly despite it having been five years since he’d danced with a partner seriously. High school prom and homecoming didn’t count as actual dances-- they just gave horny teenagers an excuse to dress up and grind on each other all night. Not to say Yuya didn’t take part, because he most certainly did, and Yuri probably still has pictures stored away somewhere of moments he’d rather forget happened at that time. Oh well.

“Since you’re leading, that means you take the first steps and I follow along, okay?” Sora nods and bites his tongue, now poking out of his mouth in focus as he glances down at their feet. “Take a step forward with your left foot, and I’ll move my right back.” Yuya instructs.

Sora steps on his toes a couple times, but soon enough, he’s got it down to the point where he doesn’t have to spend the whole time staring at his feet to make sure he’s doing the steps correctly. Each time they manage to dance one full box step he looks up at Yuya with starry eyes practically begging for praise, so Yuya smiles and pats his head.  _ He’s like a cat, _ he thinks to himself as Sora leans into the touch a bit. However, all good things must come to an end, and by the time they’ve got it down to a science Yuya’s six PM alarm lights up his phone with a vibration in his pocket, reminding Yuya he’s got a therapy appointment in forty-five minutes at the office around thirty minutes from campus. It’s a bit more out of the way than he’d like for a mental health clinic, but he really clicked with his therapist by the end of very first appointment he had with her, so he didn’t complain. “Ah.” Sora doesn’t blush when he’s not actually embarrassed, but he feigns sheepishness anyway. “Did I keep you too long?”

Yuya waves him off, shaking his head. “Nah. I should probably go soon, though, since I’m on grocery duty this week.” He thinks back to his fridge back at his and Yuto’s apartment filled with four half-empty condiment bottles, a quart of soy milk, a can of grated parmesan cheese, about a cup’s worth of sticky rice and two bell peppers. Such was college life. Sora pouts for a moment, but he brightens up quickly, asking hurriedly, “Can we try one more time?” Yuya, ever the enabler, agrees without a complaint.

They end up going through half of one more song’s worth of dancing, seeing as the playlist Sora’s compiled is mostly filled with stuff that ranges from seven minutes to twenty or thirty minutes long, and Yuya really should get going sooner rather than later. He finally dismisses the alarm he’d forgotten to turn off (it had stopped vibrating after a minute, though) and tucks his phone into his sweatshirt pouch, and he’s about to stumble-jump down from the stage when Sora grabs him by the sleeve suddenly, prompting him to turn around. He only makes it halfway when he’s tugged down a few inches and a warm, chaste kiss is planted on his cheek. Yuya flushes pink, and Sora grins devilishly out of the corner of his eye, though his expression is replaced with that of an angel when Yuya turns to look him in the face. “Let’s practice again another time, okay?” He grins, but not as widely or toothily as he had before-- this time, it feels more genuine, and Yuya finds himself taking a mental screenshot, filing it away into a folder labelled  _ hopeless homosexual funny moments. _ He nods dimly with a weak smile of his own, and Sora lets him go, waving him off one-handed while the other cradles the notebook from before to his chest.

He walks back up the stairs and out of the building with his fingers touching his cheek, lingering where Sora’s lips had touched, only for a moment. His skin feels the same as it always does, but something’s been electrified, like something’s buzzing in the veins beneath. He stomps down the warmth blooming in his chest and heads towards the parking lot.

_ (Yuto comes back to their apartment later to find him curled up on the couch with his laptop perched in an awkward position so that he can look at the screen while still laying down. “Welcome home.” Yuya greets, not looking up from whatever he has pulled up. Without further ado, he adds, “We should get a cat.”  _

_ Yuto doesn’t even bother asking any questions, clearly too tired to have this conversation.) _

**Author's Note:**

> i know i didn't elaborate on it but sora's notebook definitely contains a detailed step by step plan to get yuya to fall for him he seems the type. it's 11:30pm and i'm an old man who needs he sleep so good night


End file.
